If you know a little something about Georgia, you can tell when someone is from Svaneti. Maybe it’s the fact that their last name ends in –iani, rather than –adze or -shvili. Maybe they speak an ancient, unwritten language unintelligible to fellow Georgians. Or maybe it’s just something about their overall demeanor – a twinkle in their eye, a reserved confidence, a subdued aggression.
Whatever it is, it’s justified. Untouched and untamed by the Mongols, Persians, Russians, or anyone else, Svaneti’s special people, culture, and language remained unchanged for hundreds of years. The unforgiving terrain, passionate populace and otherworldly koshkebi defensive towers ensured that the Svan way of life would remain as it is, as it always was, locked within the Great Caucasus like a precious time capsule.
This reputation is no secret in Georgia. In times of invasion and strife, national treasures were brought to Svaneti for safekeeping, many remaining in private homes to this day. Svaneti people are also notorious in Georgia for their passion – passionate love, passionate anger, and passionate patriotism alike. In fact, despite Svaneti’s ability to repel and deter outside aggression, it was their infamous internal strife that caused the greatest harm – until the 20th century, inter-family blood feuds remained the norm.
Come pay respect to one of the most fascinating mountain regions of the world. Despite their unique cultural identity, the people of Svaneti are still Georgian and will treat you with the selfless Georgian hospitality that you’ll come to love.
Time Needed
At least four days/three nights, though this region has a multitude of trekking options that could fill weeks and months for those with the time and interest.
Distance and Elevation
57km, 3100m gain, 2100m descent (this hike consists of going in/out of valleys and up/over mountain passes three times).
Difficulty
Moderate, unless you do it the last week in April, like we did (see below), which I believe may be a world record (at least without snowshoes…)
Distance from Tbilisi
It can take upwards of nine or ten hours to get to Mestia from Tbilisi. However, there are flights than can get you there in an hour or so. See here for details.
Reason to Go
Koshki defensive towers frozen in time, iconic mountain villages and snow-capped peaks, pristine alpine trekking, and extremely unique people, culture and history.
And for those looking to hike, Svaneti is unique in that although you can cover some serious distance and elevation – conditions normally reserved for expert trekkers – the “village to village” nature of the walks can allow even the most novice of hikers and opportunity experience the beauty of the region (assuming they are in reasonable shape).
Are you clueless about how to pack enough food, water, and gear for a 4-day trek in the Caucasus? Look no further than Svaneti – your guesthouses will ensure you have a full belly, comfortable bed, and potentially superb buzz each and every night.
Transportation
Marshrutky depart from regional centers, such as Zugdidi (six hours) daily. There are full day shuttles from Tbilisi to Svaneti as well.
Guide services will include transportation to/from Tbilisi and elsewhere as part of their service.
Additionally, if you are short on time and unable to make the incredible road trip, flights are available out of the Tbilisi area (and taxis/shuttles will be available upon arrival, at least in the high season).
Accommodation
Mestia is fully developed in terms of tourism, so you’ll have the widest variety of options here. Once in the backcountry, your best bet is booking.com and the wide variety of comfortable guesthouses. Note, though, that lately it has become a best practice to book ahead, particularly from June-September. No longer can you just show up in a village and expect an available bed (as described below).
Food
Mestia, again, is the best bet for restaurants and the like. Some good options are here.
Otherwise, your guesthouses will arrange all of your meals, including your lunch if you’re interested, as part of their (incredibly cheap) nightly rate. The food is great – indulge yourself!
Regional Combinations
This is difficult to address – the number of combinations/variables are too many, especially since Svaneti is so far from most people’s base in Tbilisi. Additionally, it appears most people will zip in and out of Svaneti in order to save time for other highlights/priorities. And this makes sense with limited time in Georgia – it’s hard to commit to just one region when given a limited amount of time.
But, looking at a map and assuming you have the time an interest to make additional stops along the way to/from Svaneti, below are some recommendations:
Heading west/northwest out of Tbilisi, you could easily spend a day visiting Mtskheta (just outside of Tbilisi), Uplistsikhe (pre-Christian cave city), and Gori (Stalin’s hometown). Further west/northwest, a day or two based out of Kutaisi is enough to properly explore the surrounding region, including Motsameta and Gelati monasteries, Prometheus Cave, and the Sataplia Nature Reserve. And onwards towards Zugdidi, you’ll have the opportunity to visit the mysterious and relatively untouched Samegrelo region, including Tsaishi, Irta, Nokalakevi, and the Martvili Canyons and monastery.
Departing in the morning from Zugdidi, its about another 5-6 hours to Mestia, leaving you plenty of time to complete Day One of the Mestia-Ushguli hike.
Recommended Svaneti Itinerary – Mestia to Ushguli (see here for additional great details)
Day One
Mestia – Chvabiani (though you can also stay in Zhabeshi next door)
16km, 750m gain, 500m descent
Day Two
Zhabeshi to Adishi
11km, 900m gain, 500m descent
Day Three
Adishi to Iprali (or, carry on to Ushguli, like we did)
19km, 800m gain, 1100m descent
Day Four
Iprali to Ushguli
12km, 700m gain, 400m descent
***DISCLAIMER***
We completed this Svaneti hike the last week of April. This is NOT recommended. At each and every guesthouse, the family stated clearly that they had NEVER received tourists before May, ever. Each and every family also begged us to turn back, particularly in Adishi before crossing the Chkhunderi pass (2655m).
So, while this story proves that it can be done, we do not recommend it. See below for details.
After a nine-hour drive from Tbilisi, including a wonderful stop and overnight in Zugdidi, we arrived in Svaneti, with rain, to the magical city of Mestia. Flanked by massive Great Caucasus Mountains, the valley is dotted with the mysterious koshkebi defensive towers, the ancient relics of a time when inter-family and inter-village violence was an everyday affair (not to mention the threat – never realized in this region – of invasion from the Mongols, Persians, and Russians.) About 175 of these monuments remain today, most built between the 9th and 13th century.
After crossing the first pass and into the neighboring valley, it began to rain heavily. Given that this was late April at high elevation in Svaneti, the temperature (40 degrees Fahrenheit, or about 4 degrees Celsius) was just cold enough to make it very uncomfortable, even with waterproof jackets. Even worse, the beautiful mountains all around us were shrouded in fog and clouds, hiding the snowy peaks above the alpine forest. We picked up our pace to stay warm.
We dodged grumpy cows along the path, trudged through thick mud and manure in each village, and crossed a questionable footbridge above the roaring glacial melt water of the Mulkhura river before arriving in Chvabiani. Local dogs began barking as soon as we reached the far bank, giving away our arrival. Two men greeted us at the edge of the village immediately; an agreement was reached within minutes for dinner, a bed and breakfast for each person for about $18.
Stepping through the doorway was like entering another world. The dark, cold and muddy village was replaced by an incredibly warm, bright and impeccably clean and dry interior. The smell of fresh bread baking slowly in an oven overwhelmed our clogged sinuses. And the heat – the heat was real heat, the type that comes from a cast-iron, wood-fired oven. The type of heat that will make you sweat if you sit too close to the pipes, which of course we did on purpose. It warmed us to the bone.
Within minutes of removing our wet clothes, we were thawing near the oven, mesmerized as the wife and daughter of the household put together a feast before our eyes. Given that they were not expecting us, or any tourists for that matter, for another few weeks, the fact that they had anything at all on such short notice was a blessing. We soon began toasting to family, friends, country, and religion with one of the uncles and were well on our way to the first of three wonderful nights in Svaneti.
After an uninterrupted, chacha-induced sleep, we awoke to an equally filling breakfast: bread, bread with homemade butter, bread with homemade kiwi jam, bread with cheese, cheesy khachapuri bread, and bread with sauce. (The menu is best read aloud in a Forrest Gump voice, similar to the scene when Bubba is describing the different types of shrimp he can prepare). In addition, they treated us to heaping portions of their homemade yogurt – probably the freshest we’d ever tasted.
Our soaking-wet clothes had dried overnight on a string near the cast-iron stove and were comfortably warm to the touch. After packing up the rest of our gear and saying our goodbyes and giving our thanks, we stepped out to the gorgeous valley that had been hiding the day before. Lush green hills, dense alpine forests, and bright, white snow starting about halfway up the mountain – we certainly had our work cut out for us.
We asked, and hired, one of the sons in the family to lead us up and out of the valley. We’d read on several Svaneti blogs that the path out of Chvabiani to Adishi is very confusing – like many hiking trails in Georgia, it follows an old shepherd’s trail and is criss-crossed with paths made by the animals leading in all different directions. And at this time of the year (as you can clearly see above), the snow line begins about 400m out of the valley, erasing any path at all.
It was right about at this elevation that the path shifted from mud to snow. And within minutes of hitting snow, the depth shifted from ankle-deep to shin-deep. We soon began to rotate “point man” duty – the point man being the leader of the pack who assumes the exhausting job of “post-holing”, or manually breaking through the frozen, crust-like layer of snow so that others can follow with minimal effort.
We eventually reached the top of the mountain, now being (or already) converted into a ski slope. We turned left and continued up the slope (only for a short time) turning right again at a signpost for the Adishi trail and leading to a snowy walk on bank sloping to the right. It was here that the friendly son (from our Chvabiani guesthouse) turned back – he pointed at a faint, faded trail of snowshoe tracks and wished us luck.
After a steady descent, we broke the snowline and could once again enjoy soft grass and mud beneath our boots. We soon found ourselves in a large, open meadow, wondering where in the world Adishi could be. One member of our group walked closer to the cliff ahead, and to his astonishment, found the entire village neatly tucked right beneath us, completely out of sight.
Once again, several dogs barking announced our arrival to the entire village. Two kind, older men greeted us at the final turn and shuffled us promptly into another wonderful guest house. Within minutes, we were sitting comfortably in a cozy room warmed to the walls by another classic cast-iron oven.
Because we were both the first tourists to come through Adishi that year, as well as the first to ever come through in April (according to our hosts), we caught them a bit by surprise. This was actually a good thing – we were able to see them make khachapuri from scratch – an authentic look at a Georgian culinary tradition going back hundreds, if not thousands of years.
After gently flattening the dough over a floured surface, she would place one of the cheese balls on top of the dough and “wrap” the dough around the cheese in a series of mesmerizing yet effortless slaps between her hands. This dough-wrapped ball of cheese is then placed in the oven unless the bread is cooked and the cheese melted through.
Unique to this house, and most houses in this region, is the plumbing system. Because most of the homes are located on a slope within the valley, the villagers devised a system to capture all the mountain snowmelt and pipe it directly into their homes. All of the faucets, if applicable, are left running day and night as a result. One member of our group mistakenly turned off one of the faucets out of a pure act of kindness. He was corrected immediately in good humor.
The water is fresh, cold, and perfectly safe to drink. In fact, it is probably better than any spring water you could possibly buy.
The next morning, Day Three of Mestia-Ushguli trek, was a special morning indeed. It was Georgian Orthodox Easter Sunday.
We’d actually been worrying the entire time whether or not the guesthouses would allow us to stay during such an important holiday, however this family, and the others, did so without hesitation.
We awoke to yet another feast. This one was unique, though – in addition to the wide variety of bread entrees, they added homemade yogurt, fresh milk from their cows, and an incredible Georgian Easter Cake (like a giant loaf of cornbread sprinkled heavily with sugar). And, most importantly, we were able to enjoy fresh eggs from their chickens, dyed red to represent the blood Christ shed for the sins of the world.
Before breaking bread, our host (and chef) stood in the corner, clutching her prayer beads softly, and said a long prayer in the traditional Svan language. Though I think she would have done this for any group of travelers, it was probably our insistence on crossing the nearby Chkhunderi Pass – despite the dangerous snow pack and weather – that made the prayer feel so passionate and genuine.
Following breakfast, the father and son of the house again begged us to consider our decision. They gestured to their waist while saying tovli (snow in Kartuli, or Georgian) and pointed repeatedly to the snow-covered mountains in down the valley. Despite their pleas, we’d decided as a group the night before that we’d at least give it a shot – if it was impossible or incredibly dangerous, we could always turn back and enjoy another wonderful night in Adishi.
After hiring a horse from the son of the house, we were on our way upstream towards the trailhead and pass.
As mentioned earlier, each and every guesthouse family warned us that at this time of year, getting up and over the Chkhunderi Pass (2655m) would require walking through some deep (and potentially dangerous) snow. We knew this coming in, yet were interested in the challenge regardless. It was also absolutely wonderful to have the trails, and villages, completely to ourselves.
After crossing the Adishi River, our guide pointed towards a vague path and wished us luck. He clearly thought we were crazy, but said nothing more. Within minutes, the path vanished and we were surrounded by snow.
About an hour later, we had extremely limited visibility, heavy snowfall, and were trudging through snow up to our thighs. We are also on an extremely steep incline with no idea where the trail might be – we could only see the tops of trees and shrubs poking through the snow. Needless to say, we spoke in whispers for a variety of reasons.
Despite these challenges, we knew we had to get up and over the mountain, walk down towards the Khaldechala River in the adjacent valley, and turn right once along the river bank to get to Iprali. Simple enough.
As we did before, we began rotating the duty of post-hole point man. Every ten minutes or so, we’d rotate the duty of walking in front and creating the exhausting, groin-high post-hole footprints for the rest of the group to follow.
After several hours of grueling climb, literally crawling on our hands and feet the last 30 minutes to avoid sinking into the chest-high snow pack, we arrived at the top of the mountain. I highly doubt we were at the Chkhunderi Pass, but it was close enough. We dropped our packs, ate some pretzels, and enjoyed the fleeting views of the Adishi glacier in between bursts of cloud and fog.
We resumed the trek, this time in descent. Descending in knee-deep snow is much like descending from a volcano hike with the “moon dust” volcanic ash that surrounds the the rims of ancient craters – its very easy if you can let yourself slide, allowing gravity and momentum to carry you down while the ash softens the impact on your knees. After a few minutes of continuing in “ranger file”, we each broke rank and began gliding down the mountain separately, carving distinct paths in the pristine snow.
Once below the snowline, we stopped for a long, well-earned meal in the first grass we’d seen for several hours.
Despite our delays in the snow, we made it to Iprali early enough in the day that we could proceed the additional 9km to Ushguli and complete the hike. We could then simply wake up on Day Four and enjoy the village, Europe’s highest continuously occupied village and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Besides, the best photos of Mt Shkhara (5068m), Georgia’s tallest peak, are found in the morning just above Ushguli.
From Iprali, there are two options to get to Ushguli – you can walk along the dirt track (complete with electrical wires and apparently cars full of tourists in high season), or, you can take the more scenic route via Davberi village – see here for details. We took the dirt track – though it wasn’t as scenic as the other route, we also didn’t see another soul the entire walk (nor any part of this four-day walk due to the time of year).
The simple, ancient beauty of the villages is heightened by the presence of more than 20 koshkebi towers, which is a lot even by Svaneti standards.
We chose to walk to the uppermost village, Zhibiani, and quickly found our accommodations for the night. Sadly, we were exhausted and chose a more “modern” accommodation (with individual, dorm-style rooms) rather than a traditional home. Nevertheless, it had hot water (after a long discussion and one hour delay), good food, and even cold beer.
Staying the night in Ushguli (even if it means the extra 9km walk from Iprali) is entirely worth it. Aside from spending a night in Europe’s highest, permanently inhabited village, you’ll have the chance to witness Mt Shkhara in all its glory. The skies are calmer in the morning and generally allow for uninhibited views of this massive, snowcapped peak.
We awoke to a true blessing – mostly clear skies and a breathtaking view of the valley, including Mt Shkhara above. With a few hours to spare, I set out from our guesthouse and strolled around the village, ankle-deep in mud for the vast majority of the walk.
One good suggestion for a stroll around the village is to line your boots with plastic bags – that way, your socks (and feet) will be spared the sogginess during your ride back to Mestia and out of Svaneti.
You’ll sometimes feel like you’ve been transported to another period in time. And in a lot of ways, you have.
If you have the time, walking to the uppermost reaches of town will lead you to the Church of the Virgin Mary from the 12th century. Though the doors to the church may not be open, you’ll feel as though the doors to heaven certainly are.
There are many walks in/around Ushguli worth considering, if you have the time. A walk 8km up the valley to the base of Mt Shkhara takes about seven hours round-trip. There are also several ethnographic museums in the village, housing ancient relics and treasures dating back to the 12th century.
Sit back and relax on your long ride back to civilization. You’ve certainly earned it.